


The Ghost of Myrna

by FloraTheWriter



Series: Witch-in-Training [1]
Category: VERIVERY (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Crushes although they are not important in this story, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Ghosts, Goblins, Good and Evil, Humor, M/M, Magic, Magic School, Moral Dilemma, Moral Dilemmas, Witches, annoying neighbors, elixirs, spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloraTheWriter/pseuds/FloraTheWriter
Summary: Recipe for Trouble:To a House of Magic add 1 young witch-in-trainingStir clockwise on a full moon and add 1 strict Master of MagicPour in one rival House of Magic and bring to a boilAdd 1 vial of rebellious teen hormones (Dangerous – wear protective gear)Add 1 lonely goblin that has been ripening for five centuriesGently stir in a dollop of unexpected kindnessStir anti-clockwise every evening and add a sprinkle of misunderstandingAdd two handfuls of friendship and leave to simmerFinally, throw in 1 vengeful forest-dwelling ghost (you may want to run for cover after doing this)You have now created Trouble.ORWhen Yoo Kangmin begins training under a famous Master of Magic, he doesn’t expect that anything good will come of it – at least not with his poor skills. But soon, Kangmin makes the most unlikely friends, and just when things start looking up, they accidentally release an ancient evil. Now, only Kangmin and his friends, with unexpected help, can banish the evil for good.
Relationships: Bae Hoyoung/????, Jo Gyehyeon/????, Lee Dongheon/????
Series: Witch-in-Training [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721203
Comments: 15
Kudos: 49





	1. The Darkest House in Verrerdise Lane

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this 💞💞💞💞💞💞
> 
> [updates every 2-3 weeks or sooner/later depending on when I'm able to write]

Yoo Kangmin had spent the entire sixteen years of his life, living in one of the largest cities in the world, Mason City, where there were large crowds milling in, out of, and around skyscrapers at every time of day, and all through the night. It was a city where the buzz of excited chatter and raucous laughter never faded. 

So when Kangmin stepped out of the train, and onto the platform of a deserted train station where there were neither porters, nor people waiting in line to get onto the train, it came as quite a shock to the system. 

The empty station was illuminated by a few ceiling lights, which flickered on and off, casting him into darkness every two seconds, like he was in the end-scene of an awful horror movie and a large beast was about to emerge from the shadows to gobble him up. 

He considered making a beeline back into train, hiding in one of the compartments, and smuggling himself back home, but the thought of his father’s wrath kept his feet moving.

“So this is it,” he murmured. The sun had long since set, and he found himself struggling to read the large wooden signpost with faded gold lettering, welcoming him to Bell-Bell Town. He stood with a hand on his hip, the other clutching the handle of his suitcase. “Well, what now?”

“Yoo Kangmin! That’s you, isn’t it?”

He spun around in the direction of the woman’s voice. She had dark shoulder length hair and was dressed in a bright yellow pinafore that matched the brightness of her smile. Kangmin immediately warmed to her.

“Better come this way, Kangmin,” she gestured over her shoulder as he approached. “You’re going to Verrerdise Lane, aren’t you?”

Kangmin reached for the crumpled note in the pocket of his jeans. “Yep,” he looked up at her in surprise. “I’m supposed to go to 902 Verrerdise Lane. But how do you know who I am?”

She huffed out a laugh as she led him away from the station. “When there’s a new arrival in town, you’ll bet we’re all going to hear about it. And anyway, Master Lee told me to fetch you.”

Kangmin began to internally panic at the mention of Master Lee. He’d been fretting about it over the entire twelve hour journey. 

You see, the National School of Magic had sent several letters of complaint to Kangmin’s father, detailing Kangmin’s poor attempts at magic and inability to retain important witch lore. After much deliberation, his father had made the decision to remove Kangmin from the school of magic, and place him instead, in a private _House of Magic_ . And not just _any_ House of Magic.

 _Master Lee’s_ House of Magic. 

While every Master of Magic was skilled beyond their years and thus allowed to run a House, Master Lee was a legend. The story of how he’d defeated the infamous Goblin of Greenwater Bay had travelled far and wide. There wasn’t a person alive who didn’t know the story. Lee Dongheon was arguably one of the greatest witches in modern history, and Kangmin was his newly appointed Witch-in-Training (WIT).

Kangmin was well aware that his father had to persuade Master Lee with a massive amount of gold, because since being appointed as a Master, Lee Dongheon had never found anyone fit to train under him.

The opportunity was supposed to be a huge honor for Kangmin, but the move to the little town, away from everything and everyone familiar, was dispiriting and he wished more than anything that this was all a bad dream.

Kangmin hauled his luggage into the back of the woman’s neon green cab, and slid into the backseat. Unlike the train station, he was pleased to find that the streets they drove through were all well-lit by tall, ivy covered lampposts.

“And here, we have Verrerdise Lane,” the woman announced cheerily as the cab turned into a narrow street. 

Kangmin’s mouth hung agape and he marvelled at the array of colourful houses that lined the street. There was nothing like this in Noir City.

Blue, green, pink, yellow, purple, orange – the houses came in every color. Some were short and wide, others long and tall, stretching into the sky. Their gardens boasted long, spiralling ferns, and blossoms that matched the bright coats of paint on their exteriors. While the colors were somewhat muted under the cover of night, Kangmin was looking forward to seeing what they looked like in the morning under the splendour of the sun.

He was quick to observe the white murals which decorated their walls, and although they were pretty to look at, even a novice like Kangmin knew that they were wards against Dandylions, Moon Kows, and other unsavory creatures that may come prowling. Kangmin’s great-aunt once had a Dandylion in her garden, and would wake up to her rose bushes all eaten. She had to call an expert Dandylion remover to capture the beast.

“Here we are then, Yoo Kangmin!”

The cab slowed to a stop, and Kangmin peered at the orange painted house, his lips quirking into an involuntary smile at the bright, bold color. Perhaps Lee Dongheon wasn’t as intimidating as people made him out to be. 

“You’re looking at the wrong house, dear – _902_ is on your left.”

“Oh.” Kangmin spotted the _901_ painted onto the mailbox. 

But when he turned to the left, he wondered whether the woman was playing some kind of prank. There was nothing there. He stared into the night, his lips twisting into a frown. “There’s nothing here,” he huffed out. Not even a lamppost. 

“Nonsense,” the woman chuckled. “It’s right there! Look closely!”

And Kangmin did look. It was like staring into a gaping hole – a big, black mass of nothing –

 _Oh_ . Was that… Something _definitely_ moved in the darkness. Something green. 

“Wait a minute!” he exclaimed in surprise. “I see it!” The something that had been moving was the reflection of the green cab! There were windows! And of course, if there were windows, they had to be attached to _something_!

He flung open the car door, and stood on the sidewalk, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans as he craned his neck for a better look. 

This wasn’t darkness at all. 

It was a house and every inch of it was painted black – the door, the window panes, the roof, the trimmings – all of it!

Suddenly remembering that he was now a resident of this strange, dark house, Kangmin recoiled. Perhaps Lee Dongheon was just as intimidating as (or more than) they made him out to be. Kangmin was bound to suffer.

His luggage in hand, he turned to the cab driver. “Thank you, uh, miss…?”

“Miss Sally," she grinned, waving before she sped away at a jaw dropping speed.

Kangmin collected himself and started down the path to what looked like certain doom. He struggled to find his footing on the porch, feeling like he was stepping into clouds of darkness. But when his feet felt solid ground, he exhaled in relief. Now all that was left to do was knock on the black oak door.

He raised his hand and nearly fell backwards when the door swung open. Fingers closed around the material of his sweater and he yelped as he found himself being pulled inside, stumbling over the front step. His eyes widened when his luggage flew over his head, a faint blue light illuminating the case as it landed with a thud in the foyer.

Kangmin gawked at his surroundings. He’d expected it to be eerie and dark, reflecting the exterior, but it was rather plain and simple. The foyer wasn’t lit except for a candle in a sconce a few feet away, but he could make out the wooden furniture and lack of any signs of décor. His mother would have been appalled. 

“You’re late,” hissed the man who’d pulled him inside, and Kangmin snapped to attention at once. “You should have been here an hour ago.” His hair was a shocking white, he wore a simple long-sleeved blue sweater that stretched across his broad shoulders, and his dark jeans seemed over-worn. His boots clunked against the floorboards as he approached Kangmin, towering over him with folded arms. “Why are you late, Yoo Kangmin?”

“I was –”

“Causing trouble, no doubt,” Master Lee replied with a huff. 

Kangmin had been about to tell him that the train had been delayed.

“Well, your father’s told me all about you,” the Master frowned, and Kangmin wondered whether they were about to discuss his inadequacies in the foyer. “The Chalice give me patience,” he closed his eyes and shook his head, invoking the mythological Chalice that had supposedly led to the creation of the first ever witch. “Come. You can have your dinner while we discuss things.” He gestured for Kangmin to follow, waving a hand when he saw him reach for his luggage. “Leave that there.”

Kangmin nodded and hurried along, trying to take in as much of the house as he could. The foyer stretched out, the walls a dull cream color, and long and narrow, sconces lighting up the way every so often. They passed a few closed doors, but Master Lee offered no explanation of what was behind them. Finally, he led Kangmin into the kitchen.

It was almost bare, save for a few cupboards, the stove, a small fridge and a round table with two chairs. On the table was a bowl of what looked like soup, with a few slices of bread to accompany it.

“I’m afraid you’ll be having it cold since you’re late,” Master Lee sighed, as if he was the one about to be eating cold soup. 

Kangmin stared in dismay. Surely, they could warm it in a microwave? He glanced around the kitchen again, but could find no sign of a microwave. What kind of house didn’t own a microwave? But there was a stove. Maybe they could –

“Sit down, boy,” the Master sounded impatient and Kangmin immediately complied. “In this house, we use electricity sparingly. You may light a candle or use an oil lamp whenever you please, but electricity can only be used for an hour before sunrise and an hour after sunset.”

Kangmin gaped. One hour of electricity twice a day? How would he watch TV? How would he charge his cellphone? How would he play video games? How would he get hot water for his showers? How was he supposed to survive?

“Those are the rules,” Master Lee continued. “You’d do well to follow them.”

“But – but –” Kangmin spluttered, “Master Lee, I don’t understand why we can’t use magic to heat things.” Fair enough, he wouldn’t be able to use any electrical appliances like the precious videogame console stowed in his suitcase, but warm food and hot showers were an absolute necessity. The Master raised an eyebrow, lips pressed into a thin line, and Kangmin instantly shrunk back. “I’m –”

“ _I_ am perfectly capable of heating things and producing light with _my_ magic,” the Master clicked his fingers to demonstrate just that and an orb of white light appeared an inch away from Kangmin’s face; it disappeared with another click of his fingers. “But are _you_?” he asked, in a tone that conveyed he didn’t believe Kangmin was capable of such.

And it was true. At school, he had only managed to conjure a small globule of light. And that had only been once. He wouldn’t risk it now; he might set the house on fire. He imagined that wouldn’t go down well with the Master.

Kangmin silently shook his head.

“Well, I thought so,” Master Lee scoffed. “When you learn the appropriate magic for heat and light, you’re welcome to use it, but until then…” he looked pointedly at the soup.

Kangmin bowed his head to hide the bleak look on his face, and dipped his spoon into the soup. He took a gulp and appreciated that it at least didn’t taste bad. It had a nice earthy taste, and even though it was cold, it seemed to warm him up from the inside. That said, Kangmin didn’t know exactly _what_ he was eating. 

“So Yoo Kangmin,” the Master pulled a folder out of thin air and began to read. “You’ve finished three years of basic witch training. This is to be your first year of advanced training?”

Kangmin nodded with a mouthful of bread.

“Your grades are very low.” Kangmin reddened at this. It was a statement and a true one that he couldn’t argue. “In your first year, you managed to set your teacher’s hat on fire, mysteriously turn everyone green, conjure an army of toads and teleport your class into the middle of the ocean during a sea storm.”

Kangmin wanted to melt into the ground. His failures being read aloud embarrassed him more than all the times he’d had to deliver disciplinary letters to his parents.

Truth be told, no one had expected Kangmin to be a witch. Usually, children came into their powers at the age of thirteen, and basic witch training began at the age of fourteen.

When Kangmin’s thirteenth birthday came and went, his mother, a seasoned witch, had reassured him that it was quite alright. His father after all, was human, and was doing just fine as the owner of a small local newspaper publication. 

And then, to everyone’s surprise (and confusion) Kangmin came into his powers two weeks before the Witch-in-Training school year was to begin! He’d somehow managed to melt all his mother’s pots and pans into a flood of cool liquid metal. There had been a huge celebration in honor of Kangmin’s newfound magic, and a whole lot of cleaning up too.

The mess foretold what it would be like at school. He always made such a muddle of things, turning things into colors they weren’t supposed to be, causing accidents, creating hail storms and setting things on fire. It was as if the magic had found him on accident and had begun to rebel. 

“And it just got worse over the years,” Master Lee murmured to himself, closing the folder with a shudder. “I can see why your parents felt that you needed expert help.”

Kangmin tried to offer a smile but his embarrassment and the disappointment he felt in himself kept his mouth downturned. 

Master Lee glanced at the dregs of soup in Kangmin’s bowl and gave him a curt nod. “We’ll start bright and early tomorrow, say… seven?”

“Seven, Master Lee?” Kangmin’s jaw dropped. “You mean seven in the morning?”

“Of course, boy,” the Master frowned. “Does seven in the _evening_ sound bright and early to you?”

Kangmin shook his head, feeling another flush of embarrassment creep up his neck.

“Off you go then. Your bedroom is upstairs, first door on your left. Bathroom is the second door on your right. Bedtime is at 9pm and you’re not to be out of bed after then.” Kangmin wanted to object to this but kept his mouth shut. “You’re free to use the study, but every other room is out of bounds unless I give you permission for our lessons.”

Kangmin’s eyes widened. What could be behind all the closed doors? Magical objects that could explode or transport you to another universe? He bit his lip to refrain from interrogating Master Lee about the rooms.

“What is it?”

“Huh?” Kangmin wondered if something the Master said had slipped past his hearing. “I don’t –”

“Your questions are bothering me.”

Kangmin was taken aback by this. Had he by some chance unconsciously blurted any questions?

“They’re written on your face,” the Master cocked his head to the side, studying Kangmin’s face like one would study a painting. “They’re like shadows lurking behind a door. You know something is there but you can only see the shadows and not the thing itself.”

Kangmin considered this for a second. It appeared that Master Lee was very observant. Would he know if Kangmin slipped out of bed late at night to munch on snacks? This could be a big problem… if Kangmin stayed that long. 

“Your questions,” Master Lee snapped. “Ask them. Quickly. Time’s wasting away, boy.”

“Of – of course,” Kangmin stammered, surprised by the bite in his words. “Are there dangerous objects in those rooms?”

The Master drained a glass of water and hummed. “The only dangerous object is _you_ , Yoo Kangmin. And I’m quite fearful of leaving you unattended near my possessions. Does that answer your question?”

Kangmin’s chest sank. He hadn’t even begun a lesson yet and it seemed Master Lee Dongheon already had an awful impression of him. “It does,” he murmured, looking down at his feet.

“Well,” the Master stood with his hands on his hips, “off to bed then –”

_Tap, tap._

The tow knocks echoed through the house, followed by three louder – _TAP, TAP, TAP_ – knocks that made Kangmin jump out of his skin.

Master Lee’s eyes had widened almost comically, his jaw hanging open. “Boy,” he spoke in a hushed tone, “you stay here, and don’t come out unless I say you can.”

Kangmin nodded quickly, startled at the pace at which the Master bolted from the kitchen, and despite Master Lee’s warning, Kangmin found himself tiptoeing out of the kitchen, and straining his neck to peek into the foyer.

Master Lee peered through the spyhole in the door, and after a second of standing stock-still, he opened the door with surprising grace. 

“Who are you?”

Kangmin had to sneak further down the passageway to get a glimpse of the visitors. They were two boys, one slightly taller than the other. One had golden blonde hair and a wild grin on his face, and the other had raven black hair, his lips curved into a polite smile.

“Hello, Master Lee,” the blonde greeted with enthusiasm, “We moved into the house just opposite. I’m Yeonho. And this here, is Yongseung.” The raven haired male offered a small bow at this.

“You… The house opposite…” Master Lee folded his arms, and Kangmin could hear the confusion in his voice. “None but that crazy witch lives in the orange house. And he only moved in a few months ago.”

The two boys exchanged knowing looks. “That would be our Master,” the dark haired boy, Yongseung, said with a quiver of excitement in his voice. “We’re his WITs. We’ve come to say hello.”

“But – but –” Master Lee seemed at a loss for words. “He’s only just finished his travel year, hasn’t he? And – and there were rumors that he was going to open that remedy store!”

“Oh, we don’t know about that,” Yeonho replied, chuckling and raising the object in his hand. 

A cake! Kangmin’s mouth watered at the sight of the blue frosting. 

“It’s customary for neighboring WITs to bring a gift, so we’ve baked a cake,” Yongseung announced rather proudly, his chest puffing out. 

Master Lee simply stared.

“Well,” Yeonho cleared his throat, raising the cake stand up even higher. 

Kangmin licked his lips and he silently begged the Master to accept the gift. To his relief, he did.

“It was nice to meet –”

Master Lee shut the door so abruptly that Kangmin didn’t have time to scamper back to the kitchen. “I thought I told you to stay in the kitchen,” the man narrowed his eyes, holding the cake far from his body, as if it was going to explode at any second. “Nevermind now. Out of the way!”

The witch rushed back into the kitchen, Kangmin in tow, his stomach whining for a piece of the cake. He waited with his hands clasped behind his back, lower lip between his teeth to stop the drool from leaking.

When Master Lee placed the cake at the center of the table, his hand hovering an inch above it, Kangmin knitted his brows together. _What was he doing?_

A faint green glow emanated from Master Lee’s palm, growing brighter with each passing second, until finally…

Kangmin shrieked in surprise as a large chunk of cake flew up into the air, zigzagging this way and that before splattering onto the wall. A baseball sized hole was now at the center of the cake, and Master Lee peered into the hole, his hand still raised in a defensive position.

“Stand back!” he ordered, casting Kangmin a nervous glance. “This could kill you or worse! May the Chalice protect us!”

Kangmin could feel his face contort to mirror his lack of understanding. “Master Lee, it’s a cake,” he grimaced.

The Master looked offended, drawing himself up to his full height. “I suppose this is beyond the knowledge of a lackadaisical student,” he glowered, “but as a Master of Magic there are those who wish to rid the world of the likes of me.”

Kangmin knew that the Masters did all not always get along. He’d learned all about the War of the Masters that took place a few centuries ago. They always wanted to compete, to prove themselves better than the rest. But in recent days, there’s been a move towards friendship and healthy competition.

“But Master Lee,” Kangmin stared, “it’s just a _cake_.” Surely, the Master wasn’t so paranoid as to suspect the neighbors of an assassination attempt, and that too with a cake! 

“And _so_?” the Master’s brows were furrowed. “Have you never heard of cake traps? They could be filled with venomous Sugarfang snakes, waiting to sink their fangs into my skin.”

Kangmin couldn’t deny that Sugarfang snakes were dangerous. He’d seen some at a snake zoo a few years ago. Their fangs, made of venomous crystalized sugar, were deadly to all. So when the Master continued taking the cake apart, blue frosting decorating the walls around them, he stood by watching helplessly because for all he knew, a nest of Sugarfang snakes could very well be inside. 

But when only crumbs remained, Master Lee sighed, almost sounding disappointed that no one had made an attempt on his life. “I suppose it is your bedtime,” he said to Kangmin, who looked wistfully at the crumbs. “I’ll send a message to your family, telling them that you’ve arrived.”

“Thank you, Master Lee,” Kangmin said, not quite sure what he was thanking the Master for. His shoulders slumped and he started towards the kitchen door. 

“And remember, WIT –”

Kangmin turned around to meet the Master’s stern gaze once more. Belatedly, he realized he liked it better when the Master called him ‘boy’. There were so many expectation attached to the title of WIT. 

“– you are not to be out of bed after 9pm.”

“Yes, Master Lee,” Kangmin nodded. If he had it his way, he would most definitely be out of bed after 9pm, _and on a train back home_. But Yoo Kangmin never had anything his way. It was quite unfortunate.


	2. Just Wander-ing

Kangmin stood in the middle of the bedroom assigned to him, tired eyes drinking in as much detail as they could. The single four-poster bed seemed to be new; he could still smell the fresh varnishing of the polished wooden spires. The jade green bed curtains were trimmed with violet thread, matching the bed covers and a woolen violet blanket lay folded at the foot of the bed.

There wasn’t much to say about the furniture. A floor length mirror stood in one corner of the room, a desk and chair in another. The closet stood between both, almost like it had been a last minute addition. On each bedside table was an oil lamp, and in a sconce beside the door was an unlit candle.

He shoved his hand in the back pocket of his jeans, retrieving his phone which of course, was dead. It would have to wait till morning when he could use electricity. He spotted an alarm clock on his bedside table. He’d never had to use one before; he’d always relied on his mother to wake him for school in the mornings.

He pushed open the low window beside his bed, pleasantly surprised that he’d been given a view of the garden, although it was now shrouded in darkness. When he craned his neck and looked to the right, he had a view of the street.

Several of the houses still had their lights on. He wondered wistfully what the inhabitants were doing – watching TV, eating pizza, playing videogames? He sighed, feeling hopeless, straightening and almost bumping his head on the window frame when he spotted two figures hurrying down the street.

He could just about make out their features as they passed a lamppost. The WITs from across the road. What were their names again? Yeonho and… Yongseung! Kangmin watched as they strolled down the street, their muffled voices carried by the wind. He wondered if they hadn’t been given a curfew by their Master. Master Lee hadn’t sounded very fond of the Master across the street. It made Kangmin all the more excited to see who he was.

When the two WITs had disappeared from sight, he set to work unpacking his luggage so that he could get some sleep. As much as he hated the idea of having a bedtime, he could use the sleep right then.

Kangmin sat at the kitchen table, trying not to nod off. He could feel his body slowly tilting to the side, slipping off the chair, and he did his utmost best to keep himself awake. Even flicking his forehead a few times couldn’t keep the sleep at bay.

He’d slept well through his alarm and had suffered through a cold shower, and was  _ still _ dreadfully tired. It might have something to do with that awful thumping noise he’d heard last night. He had only just crawled under the covers when he heard it. 

_ Thump, thump, thump. _

A pause, and then…

_ Thump, thump _ .

Another pause, and then…

_ Thump _ .

The thumps continued in that pattern –  _ thump, thump, thump _ , pause,  _ thump, thump _ , pause,  _ thump _ . And Kangmin felt increasingly terrified.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he worked up the courage to slip out of bed and press an ear to the floorboards. The sound, he had realized, appeared to be coming from several floors below. Was there a basement, perhaps? Was it Master Lee? What could he be doing? 

And even as the new day dawned, Kangmin found it difficult to fall asleep with that strange noise and those questions swimming around in his mind. 

He lay his head down on the kitchen table, patting his growling tummy. Without having clear permission to do so, he felt as if it would be far too intrusive to rummage in the fridge for food by himself. Instead, he chose to wait for Master Lee to show up for breakfast.

He kept one eye on the clock, aware that it was already past seven. Had the Master forgotten that they were supposed to begin classes today? Had he slept in?

“You, boy.”

Kangmin jumped a foot out of his chair. “Master Lee, good morning,” he gave the Master a nervous grin, which soon faded when he saw the exasperated look on the witch’s face. 

“Have you no interest in attending your lessons?” he asked, with folded arms and brows drawn together. 

“I – of course, Master Lee,” Kangmin stumbled over his words as he rose from his chair. “I just…” his voice dropped to a murmur and he kept his eyes downcast, “I thought we were going to have breakfast together.”

He glanced at the Master just in time to notice the flicker of surprise pass over his features. For a brief moment, his gaze softened as he looked down at Kangmin, and just as quickly, it turned stony once more.

“If you want to have breakfast with me, WIT, you need to be a few hours earlier than this.”

He held his hands out, palms facing up. Kangmin thought he might want a payment of some sort, until a shiny green apple appeared in one palm, and a banana in the other.

“The green ones are my favorite,” Master Lee jerked a shoulder, “but if you prefer the red ones…?” he raised a brow in question.

Kangmin shook his head, taking the fruit into his keeping and thanking the Master.

“And for the love of the Chalice, do call your parents. They’ve been pestering me.”

Kangmin’s eyes widened. He’d forgotten to charge his phone! 

Reading the panic on his face, the Master offered, albeit slightly sulkily, “You can write them a note and I’ll see that it’s delivered.” With a wave of his hand, a large green leaf, a bottle of ink and a quill appeared on the table.

Aware of the procedure, Kangmin rushed to scribble a note, assuring his parents that he was safe and all set to begin lessons. He handed the leaf over to Master Lee who twirled it between his fingers.

There were a few sparks and a blue flame engulfed the leaf, turning it into ash in the Master’s palm. Master Lee turned to the open window and blew out a soft breath of air, whisking the ash away. Kangmin envied the ash so very much. Why couldn’t someone blow him away out of the window and back home?

The Master's brewery wasn't small, but most of the space in the room was taken by the many shelves, each stacked against the other, with very little wiggle room between each. From the lone desk a few feet away from a large cauldron the size of a washing machine, Kangmin counted  _ fourteen _ shelves. 

Vials and flasks neatly lined the shelves, all categorized by the color of their stoppers. Red, blue, green, yellow, brown and black. 

Kangmin's mother never brewed her own elixirs, but bought them and only if they were really needed. But there was no way they could fit a brewery in their small apartment. 

He spotted several storage cupboards built into the stone walls. They probably held all sorts of strange ingredients that Kangmin would be forbidden to touch. Just beside the empty cauldron was the Master, staring unblinking through one of the many face-sized windows, or perhaps they could be called very large air vents.

Finally, he turned away from the window and his gaze settled on Kangmin who hadn't managed to stifle his yawn on time. He raised an eyebrow at the WIT who reddened considerably. 

“Perhaps we ought to start with a simple Wake-Me-Up draft?”

Kangmin pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes large, mirroring the panic in his chest.

Master Lee furrowed his brows. “Why do you look so afraid? Surely, you've been taught the fundamentals of brewing?”

Kangmin blushed profusely. “We learned the theory.” The school had been firm on that principle. Young witches were only to watch demonstrations, and once in a while they would be allowed to stir the draft or add an ingredient, but never had they actually made anything by themselves.

Master Lee clutched a hand to his chest as though Kangmin’s words had been lightning bolts aimed at his heart. “By the Chalice, that’s – that’s…What do they teach in schools these days?”

“But, I did memorize the recipe,” Kangmin added, as a manner of comforting him. It didn’t seem to change anything and the Master stood frozen in place for a few long seconds.

Finally, he dropped his hand, maintaining his usual stoic stance. He turned his nose up at Kangmin when he said, “No basic witch textbook has anything on my own recipes.” He snapped his fingers and a slip of paper appeared on Kangmin’s desk, detailing the ingredients needed as well as a few hundred steps needed to make the draft.

“Now,” Master Lee clasped his hand behind his back. “What’s the first ingredient you need to procure?”

“A pod of snapping peas,” Kangmin read, looking up at the Master in surprise. “But Master Lee, what do you mean by  _ procure _ ? I – I have to get the ingredients by myself?”

“Of course, boy,” the Master sighed in exasperation. “Anyone can grab ingredients from a box and mix a draft, but you are not just anyone. You are my WIT.”

He waved a hand and there was a grating noise. Kangmin scrunched his nose and looked around for the source, his eyes as big as saucers when he found it. One of the shelves placed against the wall had begun to sink into the ground, revealing an open space with a stone staircase that led out into the garden. 

Oh, the garden! Kangmin was so tired that he’d forgotten all about the view of the garden from his room. Now he could see, as they were elevated several feet above the garden, the tops of trees and tall hedges with thin maroon vines. 

“First thing’s first,” Master Lee said, and Kangmin snapped to attention once more. “Let’s have a look at your wand.”

Kangmin nodded quickly, opening the wand case he’d received as a gift from his mother just before he’d begun his basic witch training. It was a blue velvet case with a red floral border and a single red rose woven onto the lid. It was beautiful and feminine, much like his mother but he didn’t mind at all. He loved it.

Inside the case was the wand that he’d been given, along with his classmates on his first day at the National School of Magic. The wand was a kind of filter, allowing witches to be more precise with their magic, ensuring that spells had just the right amount of magic – not too much, not too little. But very skilled witches who had been practicing magic for a long time, like Kangmin’s mother, only required the use of their wand occasionally.

Kangmin looked at the wand in his case. It was about a foot and a half long, and had very generic-looking green leaves growing from the stems – it could have been your average tree branch. It didn’t look or feel special to Kangmin, and he often wondered if others felt the same about their wands. He wouldn’t dare ask though. What if it all just meant there was something even  _ more _ wrong with him? 

“Now, the wand knows what you want – it  _ always _ knows,” the Master nodded, no doubt thinking of his own wand – Kangmin hadn’t yet seen it – and approached Kangmin’s desk. “If you give it a wave and think with your heart, it will direct you to what you seek.”

Think with his  _ heart _ ? Kangmin blinked, recounting the numerous times his teachers had told him, with angry red faces, “Use your brain, Yoo Kangmin!” 

“Wait a minute,” Master Lee’s tone grew serious and Kangmin shrunk back when he bent down all the way so that his eyes were only a few centimeters from the wand. “Is this – are you sure this is your wand, boy? It looks like one of those toy wands they sell for toddlers.”

Kangmin lifted his shoulders in a shrug, watching as the Master lifted the wand out of the case, holding it between two of his fingers like it was something appalling. “It’s what they gave me at school, Master Lee.”

The Master’s lips were pressed into a firm line as he straightened and his eyes were open wide in disbelief. Kangmin had to refrain from groaning out loud – what had he done wrong now?

“Given to you, you say?” The Master placed one hand on his hip, an eyebrow raised suspiciously. “Have you ever had to use it?”

Kangmin silently shook his head.

“Schools these days… Come with me, WIT.” Master Lee jerked his head towards the stone staircase, throwing Kangmin’s wand up into the air. 

The young witch gawked as his wand disintegrated into dust, the specks vanishing in mid-air. His was now wandless. 

The garden was as beautiful as Kangmin had imagined, and to his delight, it stretched on for several yards! Several grey cobblestone paths winded and intersected in front of them. It felt like taking a walk through a park! All this in a backyard? It hardly seemed possible!

His mother’s garden was small and filled with harmless flowers. Here, there were all kinds of mysterious looking plants – some with thorns as large as ice-cream cones, some rainbow colored, some with leaves that slithered this way and that, nearly catching hold of Kangmin’s ankles and some that stood so still that they made him feel as though they were watching him. 

As instructed, he kept his hands close to his body and followed closely behind Master Lee. Finally they stopped at the end of pathway. It led onto a large square patch of grass, about quarter of the size of a football field. In the middle of the patch of grass was a peculiar looking tree.

Its trunk was short and stout, the bark a light shade of brown. The branches were all as thin as a finger, but twisted into different shapes and lengths. Unlike the trunk, the color of the branches varied, from light shades of browns to darker shades, and a mixture of both. The leaves were diamond shaped and seemed to be a variety of colors. 

“This,” the Master’s lips curved into a proud smile, “is a Wandertree. And one that has been in my family for many generations.” 

Kangmin gasped. He had never seen an actual Wandertree before. There were sketches in textbooks, but it was expressly forbidden to take photographs of these sacred trees. They were said to have been planted by the First Witch. If Master Lee’s family owned a Wandertree they must be pretty special and very highly regarded.

“Now, WIT,” the Master frowned, “I should not be doing this. My ancestors are going to curse me for it. But you do need a wand and the nearest Wandertree Garden is two cities away. So I will allow you to pluck a wand for yourself from  _ my _ tree.”

Kangmin bit his lip. What would be the politest way to decline the Master’s offer and ask if he could bring his old wand back? He didn’t feel as though his poor abilities afforded him the honor of using a wand from Master Lee’s family Wandertree. 

“Remember this, WIT. The spell is only as good as the wielder, the wielder is only as good as the wand, and the wand is only as good as the Wandertree from which they’d picked their wand.”

_ What? _ Kangmin stared. “Master Lee,” he began, trying to decipher the meaning behind that tongue-twisting riddle, “I’m grateful, but I – oh!” 

“Quick, boy!” The Master gripped his collar, easily lifting him off his feet and forcing him to attempt hopping over the ring of blue rocks that surrounded the tree. But of course Kangmin tripped over one of the rocks, slamming head-first into the tree trunk. 

“Ouch,” he groaned, rubbing a sore spot on his forehead, and yelping when something hit his head with a soft thump, rolled onto his shoulder and somehow ended up firmly grasped in his hand. 

“By the Chalice!” Master Lee exclaimed, his jaw dropping. “Perhaps my ancestors aren’t very angry with me after all.”

Kangmin looked at the wand in his hand. It was a dark shade of brown – almost black, with a single light brown streak running through. The small diamond-shaped leaves were teal in color, but when he stepped out into the sunlight, they lightened a few shades, turning into a brilliant shade of turquoise.

“How strange,” the Master remarked, looking over Kangmin’s shoulder. “Well, I suppose it is meant for you, then.” Kangmin looked at him in surprise, and could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smile on the Master’s face. 

“Well, WIT, now that you have your wand, you may begin. “I’ll be expecting a full vial of the Wake-Me-Up draft in an hour and a half. Considering that awful sham of a school you attended, I doubt you’ll know much, so I’ll be around. Just shout if you need me and I’ll hear you.” The look of disdain on his face made Kangmin determined to not ask for his help. He would do this on his own and prove himself to the Master.

Master Lee waved his hand and a small wooden cart appeared beside Kangmin. “Now that you have a wand, most of the plants will be easy to locate, but just beware of their temper. And, ah yes, the menagerie is that way.” He pointed Kangmin down one of the pathways. 

“Menagerie?” Kangmin asked in surprise, but the Master had vanished into thin air. 

Kangmin took the opportunity to groan out loud. Why would he need to visit an animal enclosure? “Make it make sense,” he muttered.

And then he looked at recipe and it  _ did _ make sense. How on earth was he supposed to procure the hiss of a snake? Perhaps he should start with something simpler, like Snapping Peas. Hadn’t his mother made those for dinner all the time?


	3. The Runaway Hop and other Garden Adventures

Kangmin stared at his wand, too afraid to wave it, and yet all too aware that he needed to wave it in order to locate the ingredients for his elixir. He had never been one to believe in old tales, but today he looked up at sky and murmured, “The Chalice help me, and help us all if this goes terribly wrong.” 

He screwed his face up in determination and like Master Lee had explained, attempted to think with his heart, all the while giving his wand a subtle wave. It came as a relief when there were no explosions and everything seemed normal around him. 

But now he just needed his wand to work.

His brain shouted out all sorts of unnecessary information (‘look Kangmin, that tree is interesting!’) and it was becoming increasingly harder not to use his brain _. I want to find Snapping Peas _ , he began to chant in his head, but to no avail. His wand did nothing. 

Perhaps it would never do anything for him, Kangmin realized with a pang of sorrow. What kind of witch would he be then? He huffed out a sigh, and set off to find the peas on his own. If he couldn’t find them, at least he could enjoy a walk under the sunlit sky.

But to his amazement, as he began to walk along a path, a strong current began to flow through his wand, a tingling sensation developed in his right hand, like an itch but not as annoying. The unexpectedness of it caused him to almost lose his grip on the wand. And when he attempted to take a step forward, the wand began to resist, twisting in his fist to point to the right. “Oh!” he exclaimed in delight. “It’s working!” And he hadn’t even been thinking of peas in that moment!

Oh! Was that it then? He’d been thinking too hard about peas! Perhaps, the key was to not think at all.  _ ‘Don’t think, just do’ _ , would be his new motto. And with that, he was on his merry way.

Snapping Peas, Kangmin learned, weren’t the peas his mother made for dinner. But they did look quite similar. The green pods were curved in shape, much like the smiles worn by clowns. But they were rather large, about the length of his palm. Each pod was split open at the seam to reveal two rows of peas, each the size of a marble. Somewhere along the center of each pod, was a short stem protruding from a leafy bush. 

Startled, Kangmin realized that the pods looked menacing, like rows of neatly lined up mouths waiting for his approach. And boy, was he wary of approaching now! He began to chew on his lower lip, psyching himself up to get on with it.  _ You can do it, Kangmin _ , he told himself, shaking his left fist in the air.

He took a step forward, hand extending towards the nearest pod –

_ THUD! _

Kangmin yelped in surprise, staggering backwards and falling flat on his bottom. What was that noise? His eyes darted around, going wide when he saw the open book lying face down in his wooden cart. How did that get in there? He looked up at the sky as if he expected to see someone chucking down books and shook his head at his silliness. He pulled himself to his feet and retrieved the book.

The cover read, ‘ _ The Wise Witch’s Guide to Magical Garden Plants _ ’. And when he turned it over, he noticed that it had opened to the section on Snapping Peas. These peas, Kangmin read, were dangerous to all who approached them. The marble-like peas were as solid as diamonds and would be sure to crush anything that found themselves trapped inside the pod. Kangmin stared at the peas with renewed fear before reading the wise words of Professor Cha. H. The only way to remove a pod would be to feed it something solid that would require an immense amount of chewing, and would allow the witch to remove the pod with all their fingers still intact. 

Kangmin closed the book and set it down in the cart once more. He stood with his hands on his hips as he surveyed the area around him.  _ Something solid _ . He looked down at his feet and grinned at the pebbles scattered in the grass. He took a few into his palm and narrowed his eyes at the bush. 

The first throw was a miss; the grey pebble sailed between two pods and landed on the ground. He only just managed to toss the second pebble into one of the outer pods. The pebble lodged itself in the pod, and Kangmin watched incredulously as the two lines of peas separated, and the seam of the pod split open even wider, like a mouth preparing to munch down on something. And munch it did. The pebble was crushed into dust between the rows of peas. 

Kangmin gulped. It had taken no longer than seven seconds! He’d have to be accurate  _ and _ fast…

He gathered more pebbles into his palm, flinging the whole lot into the nearest pod. He didn’t stop to see how many had successfully made their mark. All he knew, was that the pod had begun munching. He dived forward, reaching out a hand and breaking the stem off the bush. It took more strength than he anticipated but he knew he was triumphant when the pod ceased its munching and seemingly fell silent. He placed the pod, stem intact, into his cart.

The next few ingredients – herbs – were less dangerous. He just had to spend a lot of time cross-legged on the grass, reading through the book and trying to decipher one herb from the next. And when he’d collected all he could from the garden, he turned toward the menagerie, his heart full of dread. 

The menagerie was situated in a huge barn just about hidden by a small cove of Blackwood trees. Inside the barn were several enclosures, each housing familiar and unfamiliar creatures. “Cool,” he murmured, his eyes growing as wide as saucers, his mouth hanging agape. He looked down at his list. There were two things he needed from the menagerie.

_ The hiss of a Blue-Ink Snake _

_ The hop of a Werefrog _

His mouth felt dry as he approached the rocky enclosure that housed the Blue-Ink Snakes. He’d been able to spot them because of the bright blue trails of ink left behind by the snakes as they slithered around the piles of stone. He knew the ink had a quality highly prized because of its hypnotic properties. Reading anything written in the ink of a Blue-Ink Snake will induce a state of hypnosis. There were always articles in the newspaper about thieves who had used the ink to hypnotize people and convinced them to part with their belongings. 

The enclosure was mostly glass, save for a small metal door. The key hung from a chain placed around the door handle. It was almost completely covered with dust. Of course the Master wouldn’t need a key to get inside, and Kangmin doubted anyone else had been allowed to visit. He wiped the dust off the key, feeling doubts starting to sink in before he could place it into the keyhole.

Getting inside wasn’t a problem. But what was he supposed to do afterwards? He took a step back and scratched the back of his head, his lips forming a pout.

THUD!

“Eeekk!” He shrieked, when yet again, something fell into the cart with a hard blow. “What…?” He picked up the book and read, _A Cool Guide to_ _Magical Creatures for the Young Witch._ And of course, it was open to the page on Blue-Ink Snakes. 

Kangmin read on, discovering to his bewilderment, that in order to procure a hiss he would have to… win a game of catch? He scrunched his nose and drew his brows together, confused at the instruction. According to Doctor Kim Wonsik, the trick was to catch the snake by the tail and upon doing so, the snake will deem him worthy of obtaining its hiss. 

Absolutely none of this made sense. But he’d have to do it anyway. He grabbed an empty vial from the cart, and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as he unlocked the door. He had to force one foot in front of the other until he stood inside. 

Several of the snakes, all about two feet long and bright purple in color, slithered rapidly behind rocks as he approached, and it gave him a small comfort that they were just as afraid of him as he was of them. One snake, he noticed, poked its head out from behind a gray rock.

Kangmin chewed on his lip, starting towards the creature. It dashed out of sight. He huffed in annoyance and tiptoed towards the rock, spotting the snake slither over a smaller rock and around, then over and then between two rocks and then… Oh this was hopeless! He groaned in frustration, gasping when the snake shot right past his sneakered feet, leaving a streak of blue in its wake.

“I’m gonna get you!” He bounded after the reptile, slamming into the glass wall he’d forgotten was there and rubbing his aching shoulder. The snake had made a last minute turn and was now in the center of the enclosure, coiled like a piece of purple rope.

He narrowed his eyes, and slipped off his sweater. He dived forward, grunting at the impact with which he’d hit the ground. The pain that reverberated throughout his body was didn’t matter so much as he realized he’d managed to trap the snake beneath his jacket. 

The reptile wriggled this way and that, trying to escape. Kangmin counted till three before he reached beneath the sweater and closed his hand around the snake. Even when he felt two sharp fangs pierce his skin, he held on. It was his luck that Blue-Ink Snakes weren’t venomous and their fangs were rather blunt too. 

He shuddered at the smoothness of the scales and held the snake a distance away from his face. “Got you,” he grinned, and he could’ve sworn the snake nodded in approval.

He fished the vial out from his pocket, and just like the picture in the book, held it out to the snakes barred fangs. The snake poked its head into the vial, and began to his hiss loudly. It took around five seconds before it withdrew. Kangmin lowered the snake to the ground and stoppered the bottle. Although the bottle looked completely empty, when he held it to his ear, he could hear a soft hiss. 

“Thanks,” he smiled at the snake that silently slithered away in response.

Now he just needed one more thing!

The Werefrog enclosure was quiet, as expected. The little orange frogs were known to grow sharp teeth and claws from their webbed feet when the moon was up. Several cities and towns had been known to report infestations during the full moon. But now, as Kangmin watched them floating on lily pads, he had to chuckle at how comical and harmless they looked. 

He opened the book to the section on Werefrogs. Apparently, in order to obtain a hop, one would need to transfer the hop from the frog, to smaller object which can be trapped in a vial. Kangmin looked around for something small, and lying in the corner of the cart, as if it had fallen off someone’s coat, was a little green button. How strange. It was as if it had been placed there just for his use. 

He stood at the edge of the pond, reciting the instructions in his mind as he leaned over a lily pad. A frog opened its eye to glare at Kangmin but was obviously too lethargic to do anything else. He placed the button on the frog’s belly, and touched the tip of his wand to the button. A dull pink light emanated from his wand, and he quickly retrieved the button. He stared at it in the palm of his hand, wondering whether it had worked. Why wasn’t it moving?

But then…

Kangmin gasped as the button jumped out of his palm! It landed on the ground, hopping away at an accelerating pace. He groaned, grabbing hold of his cart, and running after the escaping button.

It had hopped all the way out of the barn, through the copse of Blackwood trees, past the garden, and Kangmin who was almost out of breath, realized that it was headed around the side of the house!

He abandoned his cart, and gave chase. “Stop!” he panted. “Please!” But could it even hear him? He was at the front of the house now, running down the driveway after the hopping green object.

It was a meter or so ahead of him and had now hopped over the gate and was heading for the road. Kangmin was so focused on the button that he bumped smack into lone figure standing on the sidewalk.

“It appears you’ve lost your hop.”

The man was soft spoken, but his hair was bright blue in color. Of course, Kangmin lost focus for a second, “Uh, hello, I – uh yeah.” He flushed with embarrassment as the green button bounded down the street, on its way to freedom. “I guess Master Lee is going to kill me…”

The blue haired man studied him for a second, one brow arched, the corner of his lips lifted in amusement. He had his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie and he rocked back on his heels, as he contemplated Kangmin’s situation. “Hold on, will you?” There were a few clanging and jingling noises as he began rummaging in his brown satchel, producing a small vial. Inside was a little bronze coin bumping against the walls of the vial, trying to escape. “You can have this one.”

Kangmin’s jaw dropped, and he felt himself begin to tear up at the stranger’s kindness. “You – I – Are you sure? I – I…”

“Take it,” the man insisted, holding it out to him.

And Kangmin would be a fool to refuse! With the vial now in his care, Kangmin’s shoulders sagged with relief, and he offered the man the biggest smile he had in his inventory of smiles. “Thank you, uh…?”

“Gyehyeon,” the man gave a small smile. 

“WIT!” 

Kangmin turned pale when he heard Master Lee’s voice and saw the witch marching up to them. 

“WIT, why are you on the sidewalk? And by the Chalice, who are you speaking with?”

The blue-haired man – Kangmin’s savior – held out his hand to Master Lee, “Jo Gyehyeon, newly graduated witch at your service.”

Master Lee only stared suspiciously at the witch. “And what brings you to our town? I’ve never seen  _ you _ lurking around before.” His tone made it clear that Kangmin’s savior was not welcome there.

“Like I said,” Gyehyeon sounded a bit put off and contorted his face in distaste, apparently not approving of Master Lee’s tone, “I’m newly graduated. Bell-Bell Town was one of the stops I marked out for my travel year.” 

Kangmin perked up at this. One of the best things about graduating from a witch-in-training to a witch was the travel year. Witches were tasked with using their travel year to offer their services to those in need. It all sounded very exciting!

“I was actually heading over there,” Gyehyeon jerked a thumb towards the bright orange house across the street. “I put up an ad for accommodation and Master Hong was kind enough to offer me a room.”

Of course this was the wrong thing to say, because Master Lee drew himself up to his full height, his shoulders square, his nose turned up at Kangmin’s savior. “Enjoy your stay in that awfully bright house, Mister Jo, newly graduated witch, but if I were you, I’d be careful of the eccentricities of Master Hong.” 

Offering no further explanation, Master Lee closed a hand around Kangmin’s arm, pulling him back down the driveway. Kangmin only had time to wave goodbye to his savior before he was ushered back inside.

“Now, tell me,” Master Lee paced back and forth in his brewery, “have you managed to procure all the listed ingredients?” 

Kangmin smiled nervously and nodded, “Yes, Master Lee.”

“I was surprised that you didn’t need my assistance,” the Master stopped pacing and raised an eyebrow. “I expected…” he shook his head, giving Kangmin a rare smile. “Nevertheless, you did well,”

Kangmin almost felt guilty at the praise. He  _ had _ received assistance; he just didn’t know from whom. Still, he felt a small bubble of pride bloom in his chest. 

“I suppose that’s all that’s needed for this lesson then.”

Kangmin furrowed his brows. “But Master Lee, aren’t we going to make the elixir?”

The Master, to Kangmin’s surprise, lifted one corner of his mouth into a sly smile. “Do you feel awake, WIT?”

“Huh?” Kangmin stared. Of course he was awake after all that work! “I… Yes, Master Lee, but—”

“Then a Wake-Me-Up draft is not needed,” the Master explained. “Elixirs must only be used when necessary, WIT. Relying on them is never a good thing. If there is an alternative to the elixir, choose the alternative. That is your lesson for today.”

Kangmin gaped. He felt chaffed that he’d worked so hard and for no reason, but in the depths of his mind, what the Master said did make sense. And he’d learned quite a bit out there, hadn’t he? Maybe it hadn’t been a  _ complete _ waste…

He carefully placed his wand into its case, and was about to head out when he spotted the two books still lying in the cart. He tucked both books under his arm. Who had sent them? And how? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't make you wait too long 💕


	4. The Once in a Lifetime Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took long... Forgive me 💞

Kangmin followed excitedly behind Master Lee. He’d had a long, exhausting week, but it was Saturday and no lessons meant no getting bitten by strange creatures, no getting scolded for saying incantations wrong, no mixing up elixirs and accidentally swallowing an elixir meant to turn one’s hair red (Master Lee had forced Kangmin to keep the red hair as a punishment but Kangmin thought it looked cool so he didn’t complain). 

Just that morning, Master Lee had informed Kangmin that they were to go to the market. Back in the city, there were large shopping malls where witches and human folk could get whatever they needed. But here in Bell-Bell Town, the residents relied on the marketplace. It was at the town center and a good twenty minute walk would have gotten them there. But Master Lee said that he had a treat for Kangmin.

The Master, for the first time since Kangmin’s arrival, looked rather excited as he led Kangmin into the front yard. Kangmin noticed that his outfit – always some variation of jeans and a sweater – was no different, except that today he wore a cloak. It was a russet-colored cloak fastened with a gold lapel pin in the shape of a tiger. Kangmin noticed that the Master’s wand – a pretty thing, long, reddish brown in color, with a marvelous short spiral in the middle and sharp tipped much like a dagger – was attached to a wand-belt that hung at his side. Well, he was really going all out today, wasn’t he? He only ever took out his wand when teaching Kangmin incantations. 

Kangmin turned his curious gaze away, focusing it instead on the silk carpet laid out on the cobblestone pathway. The carpet woven in orange, black and gold thread, depicted a tiger, its head held high, its teeth bared in ferocity. It reminded him of Master Lee.

“Another family heirloom,” Master Lee said proudly, his arms folded across his chest.

It took Kangmin a few seconds to understand. “A flying carpet!” he exclaimed in surprise. He’d seen a few in the windows of antique stores back in the city. But the trend these days for those who liked air travel, was to use a winged cab. Flying carpets were quite outdated, even if they were beautiful. He grew nervous, “Are we… Are we going to the market on this carpet, Master Lee?” There was a reason why flying carpets were the last choice when it came to air travel. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

Master Lee waved away his concern with a laugh. “Don’t be silly, boy. All you have to do is keep your hands and legs on the carpet. It’s not rocket science!” He proceeded to instruct Kangmin on the art of sitting on a flying carpet. Legs crossed – not too loosely, lean forward slightly – but never move your head over the border of the carpet, and keep your hands close. 

Satisfied with Kangmin’s carpet-posture, Master Lee gave a nod approval and sat down beside him. The carpet was big enough for them to sit comfortably side by side, and Kangmin began to tremble when the gold tassels bordering the carpet gave a slight quiver. Master Lee began a countdown, “Three,” Kangmin’s shoulders tensed and he sucked in a breath, “two,” he screwed his eyes shut, “one!” and he let out a startled cry as the carpet rose into the air.

They were a meter off the ground now, and then two meters and then five and then ten and then— 

“Isn’t this too high?” Kangmin began to fret as vaporous white clouds drifted around them, dampening his hair. He could see the shingles on the rooftops below, and he gulped as he tried not to imagine what it would be like crashing down onto them.

“Too high?” Master Lee scoffed. “Would you rather us fly lower and crash right into something?” He did have a point, Kangmin conceded. “Now, let’s get going,” Master Lee grinned, obviously enjoying himself.

Kangmin really didn’t feel the same. He felt as though every small movement he made would send them tumbling off the carpet. He was even afraid to scratch his nose, and honestly, his nose had no business being so itchy in such a dangerous situation. 

“You’re forgetting to breathe, WIT,” Master Lee muttered, reminding Kangmin that he had indeed been holding his breath.

He let out his breath in a soft whoosh. And feeling slightly courageous, he asked, “How does it work, Master Lee? It doesn’t have a steering wheel like a winged cab.”

“Ah,” the Master seemed happy that he’d been asked the question, “since this carpet was woven specifically for my family, it answers to me alone. See how my hands are always flat on the surface?” Kangmin nodded. “Just a little pressure here and then will help to steer it. And then, it does have a mind of its own.”

“A mind of its own?” Kangmin stared down at the carpet with renewed interest. “It… thinks?”

Master Lee nodded. “This isn’t made from just any silk. It’s made from Draconian Spider Silk. Immensely strong, and very clever too, just like its maker.”

Draconian Spider Silk! Kangmin gaped. Draconian Spiders – and any other creature from Draconia – possessed strange magical abilities, which is why they had been so often hunted and kept captive. Now they were all extinct. It was surreal sitting on a flying carpet woven from the silk of such an ancient creature. Kangmin felt a pang of guilt.

As if reading his mind, Master Lee explained, “My great-great grandmother once saved a horde of Draconian Spiders from a hunter’s trap. In return, the spiders rewarded her with spun silk.” A weight shifted off Kangmin’s chest and he gave the Master a curious glance. In their lessons, Master Lee was to the point, never venturing to talk about himself or his family. This was a first.

Bell-Bell Market was bustling with people despite the early hour. And Kangmin felt incredibly self-conscious as the carpet began to descend in the middle of the foray. Passersby made haste to get out of the way, clearing the area for safe landing. It wasn’t a surprise that theirs was the only carpet floating about. Honestly, it seemed a bit silly when they could have just walked. But Master Lee seemed to relish in the grand entrance, his head held high as the carpet descended.

The carpet hovered two feet above the ground, allowing them a dignified descent. And then, to Kangmin’s amusement, it did a wiggle and then looped twice in the air before shooting off at high speed. “Will it know when to come back?”

“Of course,” Master Lee said with a flourish of his hand. “I said it was clever, didn’t I?”

Kangmin trailed behind the Master as he greeted a few vendors, stopping to sweep his gaze over their tables before continuing on. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, and when he stopped at his destination, Kangmin’s jaw dropped. 

Now, since his arrival, Kangmin’s daily menu consisted of bran cereal, fruit, sandwiches and soup – all of which were surprisingly nice, but the lack of variety had done little to raise his spirit. And that wasn’t even the reason for Kangmin’s agony; it was the lack of sugar-saturated snacks that really did it.

This is why Master Lee’s bags full of chocolates, lollipops, jellies, and a ton of other candy astounded Kangmin. What was he planning on doing with all of that? He’d purchased enough to open his own candy store! Kangmin pressed his lips together, wondering whether it would be rude to ask. And just as he was about to summon his courage, he heard a rather loud, “Pssst! WIT! Over here!” 

He turned on the spot, looking for the source of the rather loud whisper. And then he saw them, the two WITs from across the street, peering at him from behind one of the stalls. He’d seen them almost every night, chatting and laughing as they strode down the street for their nightly walk. But he hadn’t had a chance to talk to them. They beamed at him, and he had to admit, it was nice seeing such friendly faces. He raised a hand and gave them a shy smile, surprised when they waved him over.

He glanced at Master Lee who was still perusing the sweet goods and crossed the narrow pathway, weaving between shoppers to get to the other side. Why on earth were the two WITs squashed behind the stall like thieves?

“Yeonho, at your service!” The blonde gave him a mock salute.

His companion merely grinned. “I’m Yongseung,” he said simply. “We live across the—”

“Across the street,” Kangmin nodded with a nervous smile, “I remember… I mean, I saw you bring the cake.” An embarrassed flush colored his cheeks when he remembered Master Lee’s behavior. “I’m Master Lee’s WIT. Yoo Kangmin.”

“Oh, we know that,” Yeonho exchanged a secretive smile with Yongseung. “News travels. Anyway…” he nudged Yongseung with his elbow. “Tell him.”

Yongseung gave the blonde an unimpressed look and sighed. “Fine,” he fixed his gaze on Kangmin, his expression turning serious. “We could use your help with a mission,” Yongseung rubbed his hands together. “Yeonho and I thought that we’d be quite capable of accomplishing it on our own but…” his shoulders drooped and he shook his head. “I’m afraid that we are in need of your prowess.” 

“M-My prowess?” Kangmin snorted out a disbelieving laugh. “ _ My _ prowess?” He shook his head. “Look, whatever it is, I don’t think that I’m going to be of any help.”

“Nonsense,” Yeonho waved away his concern. “You’re Master  _ Lee Dongheon’s _ WIT!  _ The _ Lee Dongheon! You’re probably remarkable.”

Kangmin would’ve laughed again if they didn’t look so serious. The only thing he was remarkable at was causing accidents. “I really don’t think—”

“Please, Kangmin,” Yongseung implored, his lips downturned. “You see, it’s our –” he gestured between Yeonho and himself – “last year as WITs. And we don’t want to just graduate – we want to make our mark on the world. Finding the Fallen-Star Flower is sure to help us do that. It would be the discovery of a lifetime, our ticket to fame! And you could be part of that.”

“Fallen-Star Flower?” Kangmin bit his lip, interested in the strange name. “What is that?”

Yongseung cleared his throat, looking incredibly pleased to be asked that question. “According to the legend, every six hundred years, a star falls to the earth in the form of a flower,” he narrated, his voice taking on a mystical quality that made Kangmin’s lips quirk in amusement. “The pollen from a Fallen-Star Flower is said to have immense healing properties.”

“Interesting,” Kangmin nodded, “but really, I can’t help—”

“And” Yongseung continued, “according to my calculations, the star should have fallen three weeks ago approximately sixty four feet into Bell-Bell Forest. It’s why I came all the way from Seagull Town and applied to be Master Hong’s WIT in the first place. All year round access to the forest.”

Kangmin knitted his brows together, trying to process all this information, “How did you calculate – nevermind.” He shook his head, “I really can’t help you.”

“Hear that, Yongseung?” Yeonho clicked his tongue. “He doesn’t want to be a part of this  _ once in a lifetime discovery. _ ”

Yongseung sighed dramatically, “It’s a terrible thing, Yeonho. Imagine not wanting to be a part of this  _ once in a lifetime discovery _ .”

And Kangmin had to admire their teamwork. “Have you both known each other for a long time? I mean, you seem like childhood friends.”

Both seemed thrown by Kangmin’s question. “Nah,” Yeonho shrugged. “Met him two weeks ago. Parents were unhappy after Bluesky City Academy didn’t make me the head prefect. Sent me over to Master Hong to prove a point to the academy. Anyway, I met Yongs and he told me about the Fallen-Star, and well, who doesn’t want fame and glory?”

“Bluesky City,” Kangmin whispered in awe. “You’re from Bluesky City?” The city was known as the hub of all magical developments. He’d always wanted to visit.

Yeonho nodded proudly. “Once we find the Fallen-Star, the academy will regret every decision they’ve ever made. Isn’t there someone  _ you _ want to prove yourself to?” Yeonho questioned him with a curious look. “I mean, I know you’re probably super famous back in your hometown, but still…”

Kangmin inwardly groaned. It was true that he needed to prove himself. And finding the Fallen-Star was sure to make people see him differently. But what if he just messed everything up like he always did? He didn’t want to ruin everything for Yeonho and Yongseung. 

“If you want to help out,” Yongseung said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “meet us on the sidewalk outside Master Hong’s house at 10pm.”

“10pm?” Kangmin’s eyes widened. “I – I can’t. I can’t leave my room after 9pm.” He hated to think what Master Lee would do if he caught Kangmin sneaking out. 

“Oh,” Yeonho chuckled, and nudged Yongseung again. “A Quietfoot Incantation ought to do it, right?”

Yongseung scrunched up his nose, deep in thought, and nodded. “Try this one, young Kangmini.” He whipped out his wand, because apparently everyone besides Kangmin carried their wands around. Yongseung’s wand was grey in color, and had a polished look about it. It was incredibly slender, tapering into a needle-like point. He pointed the wand at his feet and made a subtle swirling movement, and said clearly, “When my feet touch the ground, take away their sound.” He kicked his feet into the ground, and jumped about, showing Kangmin the soundless success of his incantation. “See? Should last for an hour.”

Kangmin saw, but he just hoped he could produce the same results when –  _ if _ – the time came; he wasn’t sure he actually wanted to join their mission. He said goodbye to the two WITs, and made his way back to Master Lee who – can you believe – was still filling shopping bags with candy. Kangmin halted in his tracks when he noticed another man sizing up Master Lee. 

The man tapped Master Lee on the shoulder, and Master Lee – oh dear – almost lost hold of one of his shopping bags. Kangmin rushed to help out, prying one bag from Master Lee’s hand. Shopping bag in his arms, he stepped aside and observed the exchange between the two men. 

“What are you doing here?” Master Lee asked the man, clearly flustered. His cheeks were a deep shade of red and he had look of stark terror in his eyes. “I mean,” he spluttered, “um, obviously you’re here to shop but – but why are you talking to me?”

“Oh honestly,” the tall man ran his fingers through his mop of dark curls. “When I moved in across the street from you six months ago, you pretended not to recognize me. But Heoni, we spent most of our travel year together and it’s time I asked you why you’ve been avoiding me.”

Kangmin’s jaw dropped. This was Master Hong? From across the street? He looked… Well, he didn’t look strange or eccentric like Master Lee had made him out to be. In fact, dressed in cargo shorts and a t-shirt, he looked more normal than Master Lee.

“Uh – I – um – avoiding you, you say?” Master Lee stumbled over his words. “I wasn’t avoiding you at all. I was just very busy.”

Master Hong looked offended, and for good reason. “Busy? So busy that you couldn’t even answer the door whenever I came by?”

At least Master Lee had the nerve to look embarrassed. “Well, I – I—”

“And to think, I was so pleased when I realized yours was the house opposite mine,” Master Hong scoffed. He picked up his shopping bag, and turned to Kangmin, “Kangmin, am I right?” Kangmin nodded, surprised at being addressed. “Heoni will probably, for some reason, never step foot into my house. But  _ you _ must visit, of course. You’re always welcome for dinner,” he smiled. And wasn’t that a fantastic idea? No more garden herb soup and bread for dinner! Master Hong gave Master Lee one more scathing look before stalking away. 

Master Lee’s sigh was audible even over the chatter in the market. He glanced at Kangmin, “Let’s pretend that didn’t happen.”

Kangmin pressed his lips together to suppress his laughter. He followed behind the Master, finally asking, “Does that mean I can’t ask questions?”

“What questions?”

“About Master Hong,” Kangmin chanced, wondering if it was completely banned from discussion. He was rather curious.

Master Lee shot him an annoyed look that made Kangmin immediately regret asking. But to his amazement, the Master said, “You may ask  _ one _ question.”

Kangmin jumped at the opportunity. “Did you really spend your travel year with Master Hong?”

The Master strode along, his cape flapping behind him, oblivious to Kangmin’s struggle to keep up. When Kangmin had begun to think his question was going to be ignored, Master Lee admitted, “Just eight months. Our paths were… similar.”  _ Were _ , Kangmin noticed but said nothing. 

With a snap of his fingers, Master Lee had summoned his flying carpet. It zoomed towards them at an alarming pace, landing in a crumpled heap at Master Lee’s feet. He cleared his throat, “It gets overly excited sometimes.”

Back at the house, Kangmin dried his hair with a towel. He checked the battery charge level on his phone and grinned – 65%. It was easier than he imagined living with limited electricity, although he did miss his video games and TV shows… Okay so maybe it wasn’t easy living with limited electricity. He looked down at his phone screen and frowned. If he was being honest, the only reason he didn’t use his phone much anymore was because there wasn’t anyone to talk to. Because of his accident proneness at school, no one had wanted to befriend him. The only ones who called him now were his parents and he dreaded the “Have you learned a lot today?” phone calls from them.

He thought about Yeonho and Yongseung and their offer. He didn’t want the fame, really. But it was nice being included for once. Even if it was only because they thought he was some genius witch. 

Perhaps he should take them up on their once in a lifetime offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading 💕  
> Twt: flora_stays  
> Ig: florathewriter


	5. Into the Woods… And Then (Very Quickly) Out Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we meet our villain....

Kangmin’s family was strange. Not the  _ bad _ kind of strange. Just different from everyone else’s. That his mother was a witch and his father a human, didn’t even account for one percent of the strangeness. Those kinds of marriages were commonplace in today’s world (as opposed to centuries ago where such marriages were strictly prohibited).

What actually made their family different was that Kangmin’s mother used as little magic as possible. She’d always used simple incantations and only when she desperately needed them. She never liked to use complex magic. Kangmin’s father never seemed to mind, never even asked his wife to use her magic to help him make his rickety newspaper printing press more efficient. And even though Kangmin had begged his mother on numerous occasions to teach him what she knew, she’d always refused, saying that he should rely on his teachers at the school instead. It was all very… strange. 

And Kangmin never truly realized it until now. With the amount Kangmin had learned from Master Lee in just a week, he’d quickly grasped that there was no way the National School of Magic was a legitimate school, and if his parents had truly been interested in his magical education they would’ve realized it years ago. It was almost like they hadn’t wanted him to learn. Until this year. He resolved to ask them about it at some point.

Probably realizing that Kangmin was more of a novice than he’d initially suspected, Master Lee had only asked Kangmin to do very simple spells – summoning objects, dispelling objects, and most recently, a spell that commanded his cauldron to stir itself – but they hadn’t started on incantations yet. Incantations required more than a simple word to produce magic; every incantation was unique, with multiple ways in which they could be worded and required an immense amount of brainwork to form.

Luckily, Yongseung had made quick work of forming a Quietfoot Incantation for him at the market.  _ When my feet touch the ground, take away their sound.  _ Kangmin had repeated the words a million times in his head for the past few hours, but knowing the words wouldn’t be of any help. It was an incantation that was supposed to be simple, something a ten year old could probably do if they had a good teacher. But Kangmin…

Opened on his bed was an old leather-bound book that had mysteriously appeared on his bedside table the other day, just as he was pondering how to do the homework Master Lee had given him. It was only one of many books that had found their way to him. It freaked Kangmin out, but at the same time, brought him some comfort that  _ something _ was looking out for him.

Just a few minutes ago he’d managed to locate a chapter on incantations. He’d memorized the instructions, and practiced the wand movement, but now was the time for action. He screwed up his face in concentration and pointed his wand at his sneakered feet before he began the movement – a slight spiral motion to the left and then a mirrored motion to the right and then a vertical swish straight down the center.

He stamped his foot onto the floorboard, flinching at the noise. Yikes! Well, it obviously hadn’t worked then. And that was because he’d forgotten to say the words! He rolled his eyes at his silliness and began again.

While he waved his wand, he said the words, “When my feet touch the ground, take away their sound.” This time, when he stomped his foot (not as hard as he had the last time), there was no sound at all. He grinned, pleased with himself. He peered out of the window, spotting the two boys already huddled beneath the streetlight across the road. He turned towards his bedroom door, a mixture of excitement and nerves pumping through his veins. Let the adventure begin!

He had to resist the urge to let out a whoop as he soundlessly stepped through the front door and bounded towards Yeonho and Yongseung. He greeted them with a broad grin, and excitedly told them, “It worked! The incantation worked.”

“Of course it did,” Yongseung gave him a quizzical look. “Why wouldn’t my incantation work?”

“Anyway,” Yeonho chirped, his cheeks flushed with the cold breeze, “let’s get going.”

“So,” Kangmin began, as they positioned themselves on either side of him and steered him down the street, “about this Rising Star Flower…”

“Fallen-Star Flower,” Yongseung corrected, looking down at Kangmin with a wry smile. “But don’t worry – we won’t judge you for not being familiar with it. As brilliant as you are, young Kangmini,” and Kangmin let out a choked laugh at that, “there’s a lot you have to learn too.”

“That’s right,” Yeonho added with a smile. “We aren’t judgmental people.”

“Well, Yeonho can be a little judgmental at times,” Yongseung sighed, his hands clasped behind his back as he strode along.

“ _ Me _ ?” Yeonho came to a halt, the other two stopping to stare at him. “ _ You’re _ the one who felt it necessary to point out that I added olive-green salt instead of jade-green salt to the Levitation Elixir! It wouldn’t have made a difference!”

“Of course it would have!” Yongseung shot back, his arms folded across his chest, “Jade-green salt gives you an extra thirty seconds of levitation. Everyone knows  _ that _ !”

“Well, maybe I didn’t want to levitate for thirty extra seconds,  _ genius _ !” Yeonho rolled his eyes. 

“Um,” Kangmin felt it necessary to interrupt, “maybe we shouldn’t be arguing on a street corner.” The last thing he wanted after successfully sneaking out was to be caught by Master Lee on the street.

“Let’s go,” Yeonho agreed, stopping his and Yongseung’s glare fest to point out the tree line visible a few blocks away. “It’s just there.”

_ Bell-Bell Forest _ . The name alone made one envision a lush green forest, full of cute little forest critters and flowers in full bloom – a place of beauty and tranquility. Perhaps that was how it looked when bathed in sunlight. Kangmin wouldn’t know.

Because the forest that loomed ahead in the darkness seemed daunting. The trees with their robust trunks and spindly branches cast long shadows across the earth, like ginormous monsters beckoning to them with claws. Kangmin cringed as his companions’ footsteps crunched upon beds of fallen leaves. Maybe  _ they _ should have used the Quietfoot Incantation too, but then, it wasn’t as if they were expecting any trouble in the forest. It was just a bunch of trees. That’s all it was.

Still, Kangmin found himself beginning to tremble, clutching his wand in a tight grip as they meandered between trees. Every few steps he glanced over his shoulder, making sure that – that what? He didn’t know. This wasn’t a horror movie. There was nothing following along in the shadows. They just needed to find this flower and leave.

He was envious of the yellow beam of light Yeonho was able to conjure from his wand, and stayed close to the boy, feeling safer than he did a moment ago. On his other side, Yongseung carried a compass. It wasn’t the hi-tech compass you could pick up in a store for camping supplies; rather, it looked like he’d found the rusty thing lying around in an old attic. Not that Kangmin knew much about camping supplies. Why sleep outdoors when you had a perfectly nice bed at home?

“Found it in a garage-sale. I’ve enchanted it to read coordinates on its own,” he told Kangmin when he leaned in to get a closer at the compass. “It should take us straight to the Fallen-Star Flower,” Yongseung gave him a determined smile. 

“What does it look like?” Kangmin asked, squinting into the darkness, hoping to identify this mysterious flower.

“Well…” Yeonho and Yongseung exchanged a look that put Kangmin on high alert. “We don’t really know what it looks like,” Yeonho admitted, giving him a sheepish grin. “No one’s ever taken a picture of one.”

“What?” Kangmin came to halt, staring slack-jawed at the two boys. “So – so we’re just… How are we supposed to find something if we don’t know what it looks like?” he asked, his voice rising in panic.

“We’ll know it when we see it,” Yongseung shrugged, waving away Kangmin’s concern. “It’s a flower created from a star. It’s hardly going to look like a daisy.”

It sounded like a wild goose chase to Kangmin but he pressed his lips together and followed behind the two witches. An adventure was an adventure even if it was completely pointless.

“I’m telling you,” Yongseung said after they’d trudged around for a few minutes, “the coordinates are correct.” Kangmin certainly had his doubts about that now. It felt as if they were walking in circles, but kept his mouth shut, noting the way Yongseung’s brows drew together, his lips pinched tight. Kangmin supposed that both the flower  _ and _ being right about the flower meant a lot to Yongseung.

“I don’t know,” Yeonho mumbled, his eyes searching the dense undergrowth. “We would’ve felt the pull in our wands if the flower was nearby.” Kangmin recalled how his wand had pointed him in the right direction back in Master Lee’s garden. “Maybe…” Yeonho gave Yongseung a quick glance and lowered his voice to a whisper, “Maybe you were wrong.”

“It’s here,” Yongseung said, his voice firm, jaw clenched in determination. 

They were almost an hour into their adventure now, and Kangmin was disappointed that the most exhilarating part had been the sneaking out part. When exhaustion began creeping into his bones, he leaned his shoulder against an old oak, letting Yeonho and Yongseung dig through a few leafy bushes nearby. With nothing to do, he let his eyes roam over the oak’s knotted center and grooves running down like wrinkles on weathered skin. He’d wondered whether there would be any magical plants in Bell-Bell Forest, and so far everything had seemed perfectly mundane – Master Lee’s garden had proved to be more exciting. Now, however, something on the tree trunk caught his attention. 

Like sunlight flowing through an air vent, there was a strange, dim yellow light emanating from the cracks between slates of tree-bark. He ran his fingers over the length of the trunk – which might have looked quite odd if anyone had been watching – trying to discover the source of the light. With his lower lip pulled between his teeth, he dug his fingers into the tree trunk, finding bits of bark separating from the trunk as if the tree had been trying to shed its skin.

He began to pry off shards of the bark.  _ Snap, snap, snap _ , the shards went as they fell to the ground. With a yelp, Kangmin drew his hand back, frowning at the cut on his index finger from where the bark had snagged on his skin. 

“What in the name of the First Witch, are you doing?” Yeonho strode over to him, concern written on his face. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Kangmin shrugged off his concern, “I’m fine, really.” He began to pry off more wooden shards. “I just – I think there’s something here.” At these words, Yongseung materialized at his side, eyes wide as they peered over Kangmin’s shoulder.

An extremely large piece of bark snapped off, revealing what should have been a hollow. But instead, it was as if a little shelf had been built right inside the tree! And upon that shelf sat a shimmering golden cube. Without a second thought, Kangmin reached for the cube, turning it over in his hand. 

“Let me see,” Yongseung snatched the cube, delight dancing in his eyes. “It’s not very heavy. No writing, no carving.” His lips curved into a smile, “Fascinating.”

“It’s just… a cube,” Yeonho muttered, and Kangmin had to agree with that. 

But they were both proven wrong a second later – it wasn’t just a cube. Because ‘just cubes’ don’t vibrate, nor do they spin on an apex at the center of your palm. Yongseung flinched at the sudden movement and the cube bounced onto the ground, a layer of white light coating the solid gold sides. There was a spectacularly bright flash that left all three boys temporarily blinded even though they had raised their hands to shield their eyes. 

“What the…” Kangmin took a step back, but his two curious companions inched towards the cube. “Maybe we should stay back,” he tried to warn them, but neither of them paid him any mind. On the ground, the cube was still vibrating, the light dimming but still present. Kangmin had an awful feeling that nothing good would come of this discovery and he cast a fearful glance over his shoulder, wondering how long it would take to sprint back towards the periphery of the forest. But would he even know the way? “Guys,” he called, starting towards the two, “do you know the way out? I think I—”

Three high pitched yells cut the air as the surprised trio stumbled backwards, all three falling flat on their behinds. The top of the cube had sprung open, and a mixture of purple and black smoke began to drift out in long intertwining spirals. Kangmin’s heart began to thunder against his chest, sweat dribbling down the side of his face, his mouth gone dry. The smoke formed a thick purple-black column and behind that column of smoke, the shape of something –  _ someone _ – began to form.

“Who are you?” Yongseung demanded of the figure. Already leaping to his feet, he had his wand drawn and pointed at the figure. “I’m warning you not to come any further. I topped my combat class and you don’t stand a chance against me!” Kangmin admired his courage, but he doubted any magic taught in a school – no matter how good the school was – could really help them when faced with real danger. Even Yeonho looked doubtful as he flung a nervous look in Yongseung’s direction. 

The figure, a man, stepped through the column of smoke which immediately dissipated as if it too was afraid of his daunting presence. The young man had fierce dark eyes, and if his features weren’t twisted into such a hateful grimace, he might have looked handsome. He wore gold beaded shoes and a long black robe that dipped below his ankles. Embroidered with shimmering gold dragons, the outfit made him look quite majestic. 

“Who are you?” It was Yeonho who asked the question this time. He’d pulled Kangmin to his feet, and the young witch had the sense to hide behind his companions.

The man lifted his chin and looked down on them, his lips curving into a condescending smile, and when he spoke, his voice was grating, a mixture of thunder and lightning and ice-cold hail that sent chills running up Kangmin’s spine, “Geonhak. Prince Geonhak of Myrna.” Neither the name nor the place rang any bells, and Kangmin had to wonder what a prince was doing in a cube left in the trunk of a tree. 

“I’ve never heard of Myrna,” Yongseung said, his eyes narrowed, voice filled with suspicion. He even gripped his wand tighter, so tight that Kangmin was afraid it would snap.

“No,” Prince Geonhak studied them like they were specimens in a museum, “ _ you _ wouldn’t have.” He held out a hand towards Yongseung, “Give me your wand, peasant. I have need for it.”

“What?” Yongseung balked, taking a step back. Kangmin didn’t know what offended Yongseung more – being called a peasant or being asked for his wand. “Absolutely not!” And when Prince Geonhak advanced towards him, Yongseung waved his wand, murmuring a few funny-sounding words under his breath. Kangmin waited for something to happen, for ropes to shoot out of the end of the wand, for sparks to fly, for  _ something _ . But the air remained still and undisturbed. 

“You fool,” Prince Geonhak laughed cruelly, throwing his head back. “Your magic cannot harm me.” For a moment, his eyes subtly drifted down to the cube in his hand. Kangmin caught the movement and realized that this Prince Geonhak might be afforded some protection by the cube. “Give me your wand and you may leave unharmed.”

Perhaps it was those very words that caused Yeonho to whisper, “Run.”

And they didn’t need telling twice. All three turned and bolted. Kangmin didn’t know where they were going but decided to follow behind the other two.

“Which way?” Yeonho asked as they leapt over fallen branches and dodged pits in the rough terrain. 

“I don’t know!” Yongseung yelled, his black hair flying back as they raced ahead. “I can’t remember!”

“What?” Yeonho sounded more annoyed than panicked. “You have a  _ compass _ !”

“Oh, right.” Yongseung stumbled a little as he reached into the pocket of his jeans, retrieving the rusty compass. Kangmin reached out a hand to steady him as he pointed his wand at the object and the needle began to spin. “This way!”

It was as if the wind itself tried to slow them down, lashing against them and forming an invisible barrier to impede their escape. Still, they gritted their teeth and pushed through. They kicked sharp-edged stones and twigs up into the air as they ran, adrenaline numbing them to whatever wounds they sustained. 

Lights were visible between the thickets of trees now; they were nearing the edge of the forest, but Kangmin didn't dare let his guard down. He risked a glance over his shoulder, surprised to see that Prince Geonhak hadn't chased after them. Or perhaps he had, but was out of shape. Being stuffed into a tiny cube for goodness knows how long would do that to you, Kangmin guessed. 

“I think we're in the clear,” Yongseung said, bending over to catch his breath once they stumbled onto the tarred road 

Yeonho and Kangmin stood beside him, neither of them taking their eyes off the tree line. “He definitely wasn't following us,” Kangmin said, mouth twisted into a frown. “Or maybe we just can't see him.”

“Whatever it is,” Yeonho wrapped his hands protectively around his own body, “I don't think we should hang around here. Let's go.”

They set off on a brisk walk, and while Kangmin's aching joints were glad that Master Lee's house was just a few blocks away, the thought of living so close to the forest and its strange inhabitant also frightened him. 

“Do you think we should have tried to find out more about that – that  _ Prince Geonhak _ before we left?” Yongseung asked, sounding rather put-out.

Kangmin stood on the sidewalk outside Master Hong's house, gawking at Yongseung. “He wanted our wands! And didn't you hear him? He said he'd let us go  _ unharmed _ if we give them to him! You know what that meant, right? That he planned on harming us!”

“Kangmin is right,” Yeonho gave Yongseung an incredulous look. “You really wanted to spend more time with that lunatic prince?” 

“All I'm saying,” Yongseung began, speaking extra slowly like they were toddlers trying to learn their alphabets, “is that it would have been nice to find out a little more. I mean, we wanted to discover something no one else has, right? What if that's it? What if that's our chance at fame?”

Kangmin stared in disbelief. As much as he liked the idea of having friends, he did  _ not _ have a death wish, and most certainly wouldn't be risking his life for fame. “I think I better turn in for the night,” he muttered, stepping away from the two boys. 

“Lovely night.”

The three young witches gasped in unison, turning to look at the witch leaning casually over Master Hong's fence. Kangmin had almost forgotten about Jo Gyehyeon and that he'd taken up lodgings in Master Hong's house. He broke into a smile when he remembered Gyehyeon's help with the runaway-hop. 

“You three enjoy your night out?” Gyehyeon asked, directing his question at Yeonho whose cheeks had turned a deep shade of red. 

“We did,” Kangmin said when it became clear that Yeonho wasn't capable of putting together a response. 

Gyehyeon nodded in approval, but Kangmin doubted he would have approved if he knew Kangmin had a curfew. “You know,” Gyehyeon swept his gaze over the trio, “if you lot ever needed help with anything, I'm here to offer my services. It's what this travel year is about for me, isn't it? I'll be happy to help with pretty much anything.”

Delighted, Kangmin immediately opened his mouth to tell him about their strange encounter that night, but received a sharp nudge in the ribs from Yongseung. “We'll keep that in mind, thanks,” Yongseung gave Gyehyeon a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Did he not like Gyehyeon? But that would be absurd. Kangmin couldn't imagine someone not liking Jo Gyehyeon.

“Well, I suppose I'll be off to bed then,” Gyehyeon grinned, unfazed by Yongseung's response. He gave Kangmin a two-finger salute and directed a wink at Yeonho before heading for the house.

“Let's reconvene tomorrow and discuss this matter once more,” Yongseung said to the other two. He sounded like a judge making a ruling in court. It drew a soft chuckle from Kangmin and he nodded, although he didn't think that he ever wanted to discuss that night ever again. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting 💕

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 💞💗💖💕💓
> 
> For spoilers/schedule updates follow me on IG: florathewriter


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